


where do most zombies live?

by blatantdisrespect



Category: Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Angst, Black is lowkey depressed, Black trying not to die, Blood and Gore, But some humor too, Everyone trying not to die, Falling In Love, Hostage Situations, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunions, Starvation, Survival group, Zombie Apocalypse, that's pretty much a central theme in this, what the fuck is going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blatantdisrespect/pseuds/blatantdisrespect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is ending and Black isn't home. (Zombie fic. Set three years after the events of B/W.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Black was poking around a roadside Sinnoh convenience store when the outbreak hit. 

He didn't go shopping much - unless it was for potions, which thankfully wouldn't be needed for a while. Having to backtrack through every other town to restock on medicine really took on a toll on his mood (and his legs), so he saved up his money and bought what was probably half the Pokèmon Center's whole supply last trip. Now he mostly just stopped to get snacks. 

He eyed the colorful food choices on the shelves, arms full of assorted junk - chips, candy, some instant noodles. Some other customer browsing the shelves might have criticized him for his poor diet, if the store wasn't otherwise completely empty. Save for the cashier, of course, who sat near the back behind a counter, scribbling in a book noisily.

The TV droned above him, playing the news. Black brought his stuff to the check-out and dug around in his pockets for cash.

" _A local couple was shocked to find their daughter, thirty-five year old Destiny Blanc, dead inside her home villa early yesterday night. The Kalosian woman was allegedly waiting for her husband to return from_..."

He watched idly as the reporter delivered the story, while boxed footage of the crime scene played behind her. It didn't show anything interesting - mostly just police cars swarmed around a house wrapped tightly in bright, yellow tape. The place looked expensive. He wondered if a murder taking place on a piece of land lowered the property's value.

"What a shame, 'bout that woman in Kalos," The man behind the register said. He was tall, sandy blonde and wore a baseball cap with a logo on it Black didn't recognize. "You know, I overheard some people talking over by the city. When they found that girl, they only found pieces. Her chest was ripped open, stuff was missing." 

Black stared at him. He was never one to enjoy talking to strangers, and something about discussing a recent, apparently gory murder in an isolated, run-down corner store with only one other person in it made Black very uncomfortable. But, shit, he still needed to pay for his things. 

He decided to play along. "Wow, that's...disgusting. How do you figure?"

The man punched a few buttons into the register (the thing was old) and pushed his stuff back to him. He leaned against the counter slightly and lowered his voice to a whisper (which was weird, because again, there was nobody else in the store), "There's a connection to all those murders," He said. "In the autopsies. They found teeth marks on the corpses. Human ones." 

Black wasn't going to ask how he knew that. "So Kalos has a cannibal killer?" He paid the man and dumped the food into his messenger bag, throwing it back over his shoulder. The cashier laughed a little. Black noticed some of his teeth were missing.

"Hell, maybe. Something's going on. Those murders are too frequent and too far apart for just one man." 

"Maybe he has partners." The guy shook his head, amused, and handed him a receipt. Black crumpled it up.

"Some bastards up and eating rich people. Let's hope they don't any friends in Sinnoh, eh?" He held his hand out to shake. "Name's Chandler. Nice to meet you."

Black took his hand and shook, hesitantly. "Black." He said. "And, uh...same." 

He wished the cashier goodnight and hurriedly left the store, the 'ding!' of the bell ringing behind him. He was immediately hit by the wind, which was, as always, freezing cold. He pulled his collar over his face and looked around. 

The store's parking lot was small and poorly kept. It curved near the edge into a rotting, single road that ran only god-knew-where. A dead-end, most likely. 

Well, it wasn't like he had anywhere to be anyway.

He passed over the isles of chipping yellow paint and began to follow the road, looking for a dry area to set up camp. It really wasn't the time of year to be sleeping outside, but the cold didn't bother him as much as it used to, and the absence of the usual dampness in the air was definitely appreciated. It was another reason Black liked Sinnoh; the air was clearer here, a bit more breathable. 

He wondered distantly where Reshiram was. He'd told the dragon to stay close, but that didn't stop it from wandering off from time to time. Not that he had any authority over the dragon anyway, not _really_ \- he had a Pokéball for it, of course, but if he tried calling the Dragon of Truth into a measly human capture device, he'd probably get barbecued. 

Putting his fingers to his lips, he almost whistled to call it, but decided not to. It was probably resting at this point and he didn't want to bother it. 

He looked around, appreciating the landscape. It was sort of pretty when you got around all the run-down, crusty redneck suburbs. There was a flat spread of land to his right, grassy and blanketed in fog. He could see lights in the distance, the dark outlines of skyscrapers. Jubilife. 

For having the city so nearby, the night was almost completely silent, which was strange. Black was used to hearing Zubat screeching overhead and the chirping of wild Kricketune. Too cold, he guessed. 

Walking a little further, he was suddenly hit with the stench of burning gasoline. Wrinkling his nose, Black stuffed his face back into his jacket and looked for the source of the awful smell. 

His eyes fell onto something caught in a ditch a little ways ahead. Interested, he went to look. 

It was a pick-up truck. It looked pretty wrecked; the headlights were blown out and the sides were covered in long, white scratches. The front bumper was buried in the wet ground and smoke was slowly pouring from the engine. 

Wait, _smoke_.

His hand itched, instinctively, towards his inhaler; clasped loosely to his belt now instead of in his bag, which, as it turns out was a terrible place to have it in the event of an actual asthma attack. He knew he probably wouldn't need it right now (the wind was blowing the smoke in the opposite direction) but he kept a safe distance nonetheless. 

The vehicle had definitely crashed recently; an few hours ago at most. He didn't see anyone in the front seat. Oh god, what if the driver had died and there was a corpse in there? He didn't see any blood on the windshield, but there wasn't much windshield left.

Unnerved, he turned around. The road was empty. 

"Hello?" He called out. The driver could have wandered into the woods, which was definitely _not_ the right thing to do - quiet as they seemed that night, Black knew there was still some vicious Golbat in those trees. And if the guy was injured, it wouldn't have even mattered; any injury from the crash would lure every Golbat within a three mile radius to the scent of blood.

He stood still for a minute, listening. Nothing.

"Hello?" As surprised as Black was that the streetlights were lit and _not_ all busted, they weren't doing much good; the trees blocked most of the light they gave off anyway, and he could still barely see anything. 

After a tense few seconds, a rustling noise came from the bushes and a large man in a faded flannel jacket stumbled out and onto the asphalt. He seemed disoriented. Black took a startled step back.

"Uh...hi. Is this your truck...? I saw it crashed here, and...it, uh...looks pretty wrecked..." The man didn't seem to acknowledge him. His breath was loud and scratchy, like his throat was full of fluid. "Uh..." 

The man's head shot up. His expression was feral, like he'd been stranded for days rather than hours, and his skin was unhealthily pale. What Black took notice of, however, were the man's eyes – they were glassy and unfocused, the whites a sickly yellow color. His jaw was slack, revealing decaying teeth. 

Well, wasn't that disgusting. "Um." 

The man's body jerked, throwing itself into a shaky sprint forward. His murky eyes stared directly ahead as he charged at Black, who yelled and jumped to the side. 

"What the _hell_?" 

The man growled (actually, genuinely _growled_ ) and turned heel, sprinting toward the confused trainer again. Stumbling back, he barely missed yellow teeth tearing into his arm. 

"Archeops!" Black cried, throwing the Pokéball down. It exploded, and in a bright burst of light, a large, reptilian bird came into shape. Archeops let out a screech, throwing it's wings out threateningly. 

The man did not seem deterred by the Pokémon however and snarled, drool flying out of his open mouth. His veins were crudely visible.

Black tried with difficulty to calm his voice. "Archeops," He said, flatly, keeping his eyes on the guy trying to grab his Pokémon, "Up, quick." 

With a swing of it's tail, Archeops turned heel and ducked it's head under it's trainer, lifting him onto it's back. He barely had time to hold on before they were in the air, the streetlights getting smaller and smaller. He gripped the Pokémon's feathers, keeping his head down to try and suck in a breath.

"That’s high enough," Black coughed, patting Archeops' neck gently. He brought his hand up to his head to make sure his hat hadn't flown off. "Ugh. Thanks."

The Pokémon nuzzled back into his hand with a rumbling purr. Black looked back, but the man and pick-up truck were already out of sight. He shivered.

"Did you see his face?" Black asked (which was stupid, because of course it did). Archeops kept its eyes ahead, but chirped in acknowledgement. Its feathers were warm, but Black still felt chills in his spine.

In the back of his mind, he worried for the cashier at the convenience store not a mile from where he fled. Those stores had locks, right? The guy – Chandler – had to at least have had a gun somewhere. Rednecks always carried guns.

They were almost over Jubilife now. Black hadn't even realized where they were flying to - in his haste, he had forgotten to give a location - Archeops was taking him to the nearest city. He scratched the bird's feathers gratefully. 

"Right here's good," He mumbled. "Come on, it's cold up here."

They landed just at the outskirts of Jubilife. Black let Archeops stay out of its Pokémon, for some fresh air (and maybe because Black was still a little unnerved and wasn't quite comfortable calling him back just yet). 

"I doubt I can afford a hotel tonight," He said to himself. "Do you think they have a Pokémon Center here?" He watched Archeops rhetorically. 

Archeops didn't hear him. The First Bird was jumping from tree to tree skillfully, squawking and stepping on the occasional Starly, who trilled at it irately. He called it back before it pissed off more wildlife. 

Jubilife was absolutely dwarfed by Castelia. The sizes weren’t even comparable, but Jubilife was still a pretty big place. He just hoped he wouldn't get lost trying to find the Pokémon Center - that was very quickly becoming routine, nowadays.

He found it, though, after a long trek around glittering streets and passing faces (almost being ran over by a sudden flock of blaring police cars coming in from the expressway), looking for the trademark red roof. He picked up a newspaper on his way, and looked over it absentmindedly as he entered the florescent lobby. 

_Kalos Under Attack – Mystery Killer Sweeps Region._

"Hello!" A warm voice called from behind a counter. "Welcome to the Pokémon Center!" 

Black gave a short smile and a nod. He folded the newspaper under his arm and walked up to the counter, placing his Pokéballs in the tray. He heard a TV behind him, probably playing a soap or something. What was with public TV and soaps? 

The nurse studied his Pokémon as they were healed. "You're not from around here, huh?" 

"Unova," Black answered. "So, uh, no." 

"Are you seeking a room?" She asked, removing his Pokémon from the machine. She handed them back to him, smiling. 

"Yes," He latched the Pokéballs back to his belt. "I mean-" he looked at the other trainers crowding the lobby, "-if that's alright." 

The nurse chuckled. "Of course, let me book one for you. One moment." She turned to her desk computer and began typing. Black looked around. 

Pokémon were everywhere, as expected. Bird Pokémon sat perched on ceiling beams, while aquatic Pokémon swam around in a huge tank in the lobby's center. A girl was sat on a plush couch near the front entrance, petting an Eevee. Until he'd left home, Black had never seen an Eevee before - they weren't native to Unova. Apparently they weren't native here, either, but he heard there was a breeder handing them out somewhere. Becky? Yeah, Becky sounded right.

His gaze landed on one peculiar looking Pokémon, unlike any he'd ever seen before, standing rigidly by itself in the far back of the room. It didn't seem to belong to anyone; in fact, nobody seemed to notice it there at all. It had a white coat, with an odd crescent-shaped horn protruding from the side of its' head. The creature turned, and they made eye-contact. Something cold and heavy filled Black's stomach and he quickly looked away.

Weird.

The nurse opened a drawer behind the counter and handed him a silver key card. He thanked her and, sparing one last look at the lobby (avoiding the strange Pokémon, whom he was pretty sure was still eyeing him), headed for the elevator. 

When he got to his room, he flopped onto the bed, exhausted. He felt his cap slip off his head, but made no move to retrieve it. For a few seconds, he lay face-down, numbly recalling the shit-storm of events the day had brought.

It wasn't like he hadn't been jumped before. His bag was valuable-looking, he supposed, and more than once he had found himself slugged to the ground while some asshole made off with his things. It wasn't usually too big of an issue though and it was easy to just send one or maybe two of his Pokémon (whom he never kept in his bag - and with good reason, apparently) to go rough 'em up a bit, but this was different. The man didn't even try to grab it - it didn't seem like he had really even seen Black at all. 

He was definitely sick with something. His teeth were all rotted - rabies, maybe? The guy _had_ tried to bite him. He had no idea if the same symptoms that affected Pokémon with rabies also affected people, but what else could explain a grown man coming at him teeth-first? The guy was bigger than Black, who wasn't very strong in the first place. He could have easily sucker-punched him if he was after something (he cringed at that - _something_ , ew), so why did he think to tear a chunk out of his arm first?

_"They found teeth marks on the corpses. Human ones."_

Black rolled his eyes. That was stupid. That guy was just spouting shit about the cannibal thing, and even if he wasn't, Sinnoh was right behind Unova in highest crime rate; some hick attacking him on a deserted roadside wasn't so out of the question.

He kicked off his shoes and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. He would set off from Jubilife in the morning – and keep Archeops out, just in case.

Content with this plan, Black fell asleep. 

Downstairs, a breaking news bulletin interrupted _The Bachelorette_. 

" _...Public officials have declared a state of emergency...following areas...Sandgem...Jubilife...Oreburgh...citizens advised to stay indoors, repeat, stay indoors_..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what an absolute fucking train wreck this is gonna be. saddle up guys


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so begins the end

Black didn't dream that night, which he was one hundred percent okay with. Ever since _the incident_ (the one where he up and left everyone he knew, yes, that one) his dreams weren't often pleasant.

And speaking of pleasant, Great Mew's tail, this bed was comfortable. He had no idea how non-profit organizations like Pokémon Centers were in a financial position to hand out free beds like these, but he wasn't complaining. He made a small, happy sound of contentment and pulled the covers up to his face, making a vow to never get up. 

Apparently whatever ruling deity above had other plans, because he was jolted out of his kind-of sleep by a sharp pounding on his door. 

"Hello! Please, open the door, quickly!" A muffled voice called. It was a woman - she sounded scared. Black reluctantly pulled off his covers and half-jogged to the door, messily running his fingers through his hair to tame his bedhead. 

He opened the door to the Pokémon Center's nurse, looking quite distressed. 

"Wha- what happened?" He asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The frazzled woman looked behind him, scanning his room.

"Grab your belongings. Pack any immediate necessities, clothes, food, the cute little soaps we have in the bathrooms, _please take a soap_ , we have so many-" 

"Whoa, whoa, wait - am I being kicked out?" Black asked, confused. 

"No, no, I mean yes, technically, just – just grab your things and come downstairs, _quickly_!"

"Okay, okay! Uh..." Puzzled, he ran back to his bag, checking the inside for all of his stuff. He grabbed his Pokéballs and strapped them to his – okay, he didn't have his belt on- 

He put his belt on and strapped his Pokéballs to it. He took the nurse's advice and took some soap from the bathroom, dumping them into his bag with the clothes and junk food. 

The nurse was gone, but he could hear her banging on her other unlucky residents' doors farther down the hall.

He poked his head out of his room tentatively. People were hurriedly shuffling out of their rooms, running downstairs, bags in hand. Someone somewhere was screaming. He could hear police sirens and the screeching of an ambulance outside the Center. A bomb must have gone off somewhere; perhaps he'd slept through the blast, somehow. This was _madness_. 

Following the herd, Black ran downstairs to find utter chaos.

The sounds of sirens was much louder in the lobby. Trainers were running back and forth, loading what looked like rations into boxes and wagons and bags. Some guy was shouting into the Center's payphone, gripping it tightly in both hands. Pokémon were everywhere, squawking and screeching and howling. He almost squashed a Wurmple that scurried past him, stepping to the side awkwardly and almost losing his balance.

He wanted to pull someone over, ask what the _hell_ was going on, but his mouth wouldn't form words. He was completely bewildered.

He spotted the Pokémon Center's nurse near the back, loading Pokéballs from the healing machine into trays. "Nurse!" He called, running over to her. "What happened?"

"We don't know," She said, her breath quick. "We were placed under a state of emergency last night, and everything went crazy. The city is being evacuated."

Black stared in disbelief. "The whole city? Why-?"

"I-I don't know, I - I don't like what I've heard, I - please, here," She handed him another bag, "take some supplies, there's some food, water, a couple towels-"

"Wait, wait, slow down – what about you?" He took the pack and dismissed it, dropping it on the floor by his foot.

The nurse smiled a bit sadly. "I put the safety of others before my own. It's my job," She said. Her expression turned serious again. "Listen, there's a train station just down the road from her-"

A devastatingly loud _boom_ shook the Pokémon Center. Black blanched, ducking his head and holding on for dear life to the counter. The windows all blew out, scattering shards of glass all over the ground. Several people screamed; the building quivered and Black prayed the ceiling wouldn't collapse on top of them. 

"Are you alright?" The nurse asked when it stopped, shakily pulling herself back up. Black nodded, his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping the counter. 

"It's looking bad out there," A man shouted from the entrance. "We need to leave, now!" 

It looked bad out there? What about in _here?_

Something told him staying put wasn't a good idea. Choosing to follow the other guy's advice, he extended his hand to the nurse.

"Come on, we'll leave together," He said. "Just...be selfish for once. It's not safe in here." The nurse looked surprised, but after a moment nodded and took his hand. 

"Alright." She allowed him to help her climb over the counter. He grabbed the second bag from the floor and they both ran to the exit, avoiding other trainers as they passed. 

_Boom_. 

The second explosion was somehow even louder than the first one. They both fell, holding an arm over each of their heads as the tremor shook the whole building. The florescent lights blew out, showering them in sparks and drenching the Center in darkness. 

Drywall dust flew and scattered through the air as the walls began to crack. Black coughed and tried to get to his feet, shakily. 

His head hurt. Suddenly another hand slid into his and pulled him the rest of the way up. Confused and disoriented, he turned his head to look at the hand's owner, but it was too dark to see.

"Come on," He recognized the nurse's voice. "We'll pass through the lobby - I-I don't know how long the ceiling will hold-" 

As if on cue, the ceiling rumbled. There was a moment of silence (painfully quiet, dramatic silence) where nothing happened. 

But then, surely: _Crack_.

Black jumped back as a long slabs of plaster and drywall fell and crashed to the ground. Layers of tile, support beams and _wow_ , _actual furniture_ all landed with a _crunch_ not ten feet from where he stood, effectively reigniting panic in the other inhabitants of the Pokémon Center. The impact startled him back out of the nurse's grip, and he fell backwards on his ass.

The air was torn from his lungs as he hit the ground. He inhaled on instinct, trying to recapture his breath - and took in a fat cloud of debris.

Fire filled his throat. His body spasmed with violent coughs, trying and failing to suck in a clean breath. Everything around him turned to white noise. He rolled over, pressing his chilled and sweaty palms to the ground and wheezing, helplessly. He heard voices - lots of them - but they sounded far away, distant. His vision was blurring. He couldn't tell if his face was sweating or melting off. 

_I'm having an attack_ , he realized, way later than he should have, and reached for his inhaler- 

Only to grab an empty belt loop. 

He'd forgotten his inhaler. On his desk, lost somewhere in his bedsheets, it didn't matter, he _forgot it, forgot_ , _forgotforgotforgot_ \- 

He didn't have any time to feel angry about dying in a Pokémon Center of all places, because his head was filling with fog, spilling from his eyes and blurring his vision. His chest felt like a vise. His arms trembled and collapsed under him, and he barely felt cold linoleum press against his cheek.

He did feel something else, another hand, grab him by his upper arm and yank him upwards, which didn't register in his brain until the stranger was practically carrying him through the crumbling lobby.

"Can you hear me?" It was a man. Black lifted his head (as best he could, anyway) and tried to look at him, but his vision was still too murky; he could barely make out his shape, but when he did he felt the rest of his organs shrivel (his lungs were already gone) because the man's build (tall, and thin) was so similar to _his_ that for a moment, he almost thought- 

"Listen, you're going to be okay. Just keep breathing. In and out, okay?" The man shook him a bit as they ran, obviously trying to keep him conscious, and if Black hadn't been halfway to the grave right then he might have commented that the guy sounded like he was directly quoting _General Hospital_.

Black's footsteps were heavy and loose, and he leaned against the stranger for support. He held him up, though he seemed to struggle with it, and Black finally realized, through the painful haze in his brain, he had been wrong; he'd really never met this person before.

Some part of him felt relieved.

Everything around them was still hell: there was crashes, cracks, and ka-booms, and of course the ever-present screaming, but it was tuned out by the ringing in his ears and his own raspy breath.

And suddenly, _woosh_ it was cold, and the air was clearer, and they were outside. They'd made it out. 

Black's body registered the change in atmosphere before his brain did; he took rapid, greedy breaths of the frigid air, and there were subconscious tears stinging his eyes: his cough receded, but didn't diminish, and he prayed this miracle stranger also happened to have an inhaler loaded with his prescription medicine.

Cracking open a wet eye, he looked around. The sky was a faint, dark blue. It couldn't have been later than five or six in the morning.

He located the source of the explosions – a gas station right next to the Pokemon Center was up in flames, the metal canopy collapsed over tanks and cars. An enormous column of black smoke rose from the wreckage.

There were fire trucks and police cars everywhere. Windows on buildings were broken and the buildings were on fire and people were everywhere, running through the streets, some injured, some laying down, why were they – okay, those were _bodies_ , those were bodies lying in the streets-

 _What_ was going _on_? 

Suddenly, Black was being thrown into the back of a car. His head thumped dully against the headrest and he gargled unattractively, screwing his eyes back shut.

Hands, _again_ , were on him, but these hands were different, more gentle; they held his shoulders, straightening his back, and Black realized they were trying to angle him so that air could reach him properly. Gratefully, he complied. 

In and out, in and out.

He kept at it, encouraged by the soft hands, which rubbed circles into his shoulders soothingly until his breathing at last returned to almost-normal. 

He opened his eyes. 

A woman sat in the car seat next to him, with mellow features and dark but kind eyes staring back at him with concern. Her hands never stopped rubbing his skin. 

He couldn't believe it. He was alive. His throat felt like buried sandpaper and all five of his senses were filled with hurt, but he was alive. 

"Are you okay?" The woman asked, and Black could immediately tell English wasn't a language she was familiar with - her accent curved around the words, but not unpleasantly. All Black could do was nod.

The driver's side door opened and the man who'd saved him slid into the driver's seat. "Time to go," He said, starting the engine. Black shook his head, remembering how to speak. 

"Wait, what? Who are you?" His voice was scratchy. Talking hurt. 

The woman released Black's shoulders as the man in the driver's seat spoke. "Don't strain yourself. You don't want to relapse."

No, Black certainly didn't. Still, he couldn't tell if it was genuine concern or a sparsely hidden threat. He decided to trust the former. 

He heard a low rumble behind him and turned around to see the entire upper floor of the Pokémon Center give out and crush the lobby beneath it. Dust flew everywhere and police swarmed the parking lot, holding back the hysterical crowd. Black stared in horror. 

Had the nurse made it out safely?

Had anyone?

The car accelerated. 

"Where are we going?" Black asked, staring out the windows in growing panic. So much for retrieving his MDI. Down the street, another explosion sounded.

The man driving grunted, maneuvering between people and other cars. "We're headed for the expressway," He said. He looked into the rear-view mirror and gave a small, sympathetic smile. "Sorry if I scared you. The building started coming down and I knew when you fell that-" Suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "That you needed help." 

“This is my wife.” He gestured to the woman in the seat beside him. She smiled uncertainly. "Her name is Sachi. She doesn't speak much English, I apologize." 

Deciding that words weren't the best option at the moment, he just smiled back at her awkwardly. She'd just saved his life and he couldn't even manage a 'gee, thanks.' 

The car - an SUV, he noticed with the third row of seats behind him - wasn't getting much of anywhere; between the scattered crowds, fallen telephone poles and other cars, there wasn't much room to get very far. 

Black realized for only the second time that something was very, very wrong.

"Come on people, get out of the damn way," The man said, grip tight on the steering wheel. "Sorry. That-" He pointed vaguely behind him, "-is my son, Taro. He's nine." 

A _thump_ answered him, which was unsettling, because that meant there were more people in the car he didn't know. Not trusting his voice, he made a waving gesture with his hand, like _and you are_? 

"I'm Tamio. Sorry, did I not introduce myself? Tamio. I would offer you my hand, but..." A speeding truck collided with a parked car in front of them and Tamio yelled, veering right.

Suddenly, Taro, Black assumed, poked his head over the row of seats and climbed over them (almost kicking Black in the face, thank you very much) to crawl into his mother's arms. They curled into each other, and the sight was warm and a little heartbreaking. It calmed him down a bit, nonetheless. 

"We have some friends waiting for us on the outskirts of the city," Tamio continued. "Once we get there, we-" 

"No. No, wait a minute." Black interrupted him, despite his throat's raspy protests. They were back on a main road again, speeding past mobs of people and the occasional burning building. "What's going on? Why are we all -" Cough. " - evacuating?" He wondered, for a brief moment, if the villainous team that had resided here – Team Galactic? – was back for revenge, but that was impossible; their leader had disappeared years ago. The rumors surrounding Cyrus were eerie; they all told of the man being swept away by an evil Pokèmon into some alternate dimension of shadows and never returning. 

Y'know, cheerful stuff.

The car came to a sudden stop and the trainer threw his arms out in front of him to keep his face from being slammed into the back seat. Confused and a little pissed off, Black opened his mouth to complain, but stopped when he saw Tamio's expression. 

He was staring straight ahead, eyes wide. Black followed his gaze confusedly and gaped at the sight in front of him.

At the end of the street, there was a huge mob of people. They were climbing fences and dumpsters, smacking into each other, spread out and walking (limping? Crawling?) at a leisurely pace towards them, sunken expressions on their faces. 

_Dead. Limp. Yellow eyes._

Sachi was shouting urgently, probably telling Tamio _hey, hit the gas, peel out_. The boy in her arms cowered, sinking lower and Black stared ahead blankly, trying to process what he was seeing-

One of the creature's heads shot up, and all at once, the others followed: a small army of milky eyes stared at the SUV, their mouths hanging open, dripping a thick, foamy fluid. Black wanted to gag. 

In a split second, they charged, their arms flying back and forth limply, their jaws wide open. Spit flew out of their gaping mouths, and their teeth were varying shades of yellow and green and black. Even from inside the car, the smell was awful. 

Tamio cursed under his breath. He put the car in reverse and hit the gas, peeling out of the alleyway. The creatures gave chase and some of them crashed into the windshield, gripping with both hands and groaning.

One of them slammed into Black's side window and he screamed (which he regretted immediately - ouch), crawling backwards and almost falling out of his seat. They were so much uglier up close; the thing's pupils were all but gone, it's skin was rotten and it's teeth were gnashing together, spewing yellow substance all over the window. It gripped tightly to the sides of the car, banging it's skull on the glass.

The tires screeched as they skid across the pavement. They pulled out into the street and Tamio floored the gas pedal, shooting the car forward and sending the monsters flying off the sides. Black turned around in his seat to watch the shrinking horde, heart pounding. 

“Wh...what was...wh-” His voice was shaky. He clutched his jacket tightly, slightly disgusted at how clammy his hands were.

Tamio let out a breath.

“I think that's what everyone is running from,” He said, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. A rattling groan shook the pavement beneath them.

Black shook his head, eyes wide. "No, those were people, those were-" 

"Those were not people." Tamio looked at Black through the rear-view mirror. "Seriously, kid, do _not_ confuse the creatures we just saw as people, or Pokémon, or anything that isn't a hostile, dangerous threat _to your life_ that you need to stay far away from. Do you understand? They look like people. They walk like people. _They are not people_." 

"I understand," Black croaked. "But what are they, then? How did they - whoa!" The trainer was again thrown into the seat in front of him, his cheek squished painfully against the upholstery as Tamio came to another sudden, screeching halt. He heard the man curse and say something to his family, who held onto each other more tightly, obviously terrified.

Black peeled his face from the sticky leather and lifted his head, staring outside the car's windshield.

"Oh,"

They were on the street intersecting the expressway, which was absolutely _packed_ , an endless, un-orderly line of glaring red taillights lay scattered across the streets, blocking any and all chance of escape. The sound of horns honking, tires screeching and people yelling was deafening. Black's heart sank. 

"Looks like we weren’t the only ones with the idea," Tamio said. He swore again and turned around, with difficulty. "Max and Piper are waiting for us by the trainer's school. Time for plan B."

Black wanted to ask what plan B was, but the mucus in his throat made it pretty hard to do anything but rasp. 

Tamio spared him. "The plan, first, is to get out of the city. We'll grab our friends - they're Pokémon trainers, like you - and head for Canalave."

Black cringed at the man's pronunciation of 'Canalave'. "Why there?" "It should be safe, for now," He popped open the glove box and shuffled its contents around, searching for something. "The canal separates Canalave from Route 218, so it should be impossible for any dead to cross into the city by foot." Black's chest felt cold at the word 'dead'. He tried to focus on his breathing. "We'll find a boat," Tamio continued. "To Iron Island, maybe? Just until this gets cleaned up, blows over. Shouldn't be more than a few days. Just a few days." He kept saying that, but whether he was trying to convince everyone else or himself, Black wasn't sure. 

It was quiet after that (as quiet as it could be with hell turning over outside). They turned at a corner and pulled into the parking lot of the trainer's school. The place looked abandoned aside from some empty cars scattered across the lot, and two people standing outside the front doors. It was a man and a woman, each with backpacks slung over their shoulders. The man had a metal baseball bat hanging from his hip, but the woman didn't seem to carry a visible weapon. 

They stopped beside the pair on the sidewalk and Tamio leaned over to throw the sliding side door open. "Hop in!"

The man grinned from outside the car and stepped up, hauling himself into a seat with a breathy grunt. The girl followed, plopping herself in the seat next to Black's. She shook her head, exhaled and looked at him, smiling. Her eyes were a warm, deep hazel.

"Hi. My name is Piper," She said, extending her hand to him. He took it, tentatively. 

"Black." 

The guy in the seat in front of him coughed and sniggered. "Wait, seriously? That can't be right." He turned around, grinning. "I'm Max. Me and Piper travel togeth- whoa, you look like shit. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Black griped, which was punctuated with a heavy rasp on _fine_. He slid his bag off his shoulder and unzipped it, pulling out a water bottle. He couldn't rip the cap off fast enough and almost moaned into the bottle when smooth, lukewarm relief flowed down his throat.

"We've been traveling around Sinnoh for almost-" Piper looked to Max inquisitively, "-three years? Yeah, about three years. We collect Gym badges." 

Black took smaller sips from his water. Miraculously, it did wonders to sooth his sinuses. "How many you got?" He asked, relieved when it didn't hurt. 

"All but Snowpoints'. We've been putting that one off for months, I hear the trek there is awful."

"It's fucking brutal, man. I tried hiking up a couple years ago. Didn't go well, I turned heel once the storm got worse on 217. Like, 'fuck that shit, I’m out'. Hey, is Black really your name, or did you just make that up?" 

Black ignored him.

Tamio turned out of the parking lot. "There's a child on board," He reminded them, but he was smiling. Black wondered how they were so composed, wasn't the world ending here, or something?

"Taro doesn't speak English, dude." Max laughed, leaning forward to punch at the back of Tamio's seat. "What's up? It's been ages since we've seen you in person, how you been?"

The sky was getting steadily lighter. As the three immersed in catching up (and Sachi actually upholding conversation with Piper, who apparently spoke Japanese), Black stared at his lap, one, because he didn't feel like chatting, and two, because not looking inside meant looking outside, and he didn't want to watch the city burn either. Silently, he weighed his options.

He could stay with these people. They all seemed okay enough and they obviously knew a lot more than he did about the _situation_ (if it could even be called that, he didn't know what to call it, and what even was _it_ , exactly?). Tamio and his wife saved his life back at the Center, and his two friends were trainers, like him. 

But at the same time, he had a home back in Unova with friends and family that could be in danger. He pierced together the horde of monsters with the strange man attacking him the night before and he knew that if something like this were to happen back home, especially in a place as densely populated as Castelia (or Nimbasa - _Driftveil_ , even) it would be catastrophic. 

He eyed the drying... _fluid_ splattered across the window. 

Damning his conscious, Black knew then that he'd have to face his greatest fear: 

He'd have to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do i write chapter notes


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some flashbacks and black realizing how fucked his situation is

The castle's grand marble stairways stretched higher than every skyscraper in Castelia City combined. 

At least, it seemed that way - to his legs especially, which screamed in fatigue as he climbed step after copper-accented step. Up, and up, and up - why did they need so many floors? It wasn't like they used half the space they had, the decor was mostly the same in every room (most of them anyway, with that one exception) and nothing was especially over furnished. 

Sleek, shiny granite flooring, lined with rows of massive stone pillars and statues, emblazoned with the Team Plasma logo. Flags stitched with the emblem hung from every angle, symmetrically framing every door and window. It was beautiful, in an odd, cult-ish sort of way, but there was no time to appreciate the castles' architecture.

 _Traveling is wonderful_. 

Why?

 _I've met many different Pokémon, many different trainers, and now I've met all of you_.

But it wasn't worth _this_. 

_Let me ask you a question. Do you regret setting out on your journey_?

He knew what would have gone down had he denied Juniper's offer. It would've been awkward, watching his friends tear up his room battling each other with their new Pokémon and then leaving him to sulk at home while they chased their dreams on the open routes of Unova.

He remembered that day so clearly, he could almost pretend he was still in his room, watching the brightly wrapped gift box sitting on his dresser and wondering, _do I want this_?

He'd needed White then, more than ever, but she wasn't there to hold his hand and tell him what to do anymore; she had left on her own journey several months previous, because she was braver than him, something about 'chasing success', or something like that. Success at _what_ , Black wasn't sure, but White was, and all Black was sure of was that his sister was finally sick of him.

Maybe that was what pushed him to take the Pokéball. It felt _good_ , to be his own person and decide this for himself, and he decided that yes, he was going to do this. He left early in the morning, hands conjoined with his two favorite people, and he didn't look back.

Halfway to Accumula, the Light Stone exploded in his pocket.

Black jerked awake.

He laid there for several heavy seconds, feeling slightly sick. He reached up to rub his face, and felt a thin sheet of sweat on his neck - gross. He rolled over, groaning, and tried to remember where he was.

Center. Evacuation. Canalave. Right.

The sunroof slid open above his head, and Black tensed, startled at the sudden noise.

"You alright, kid?" It was Max, lowering his head precariously through the panel.

Black exhaled. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just...um." He blinked up at the man, who stared back innocently like he wasn't hanging upside down. "What are you doing? Aren't you tired?" 

Given, Black was very wary about falling asleep in the same car as these near strangers, but seeing as he was yanked out of his bed at five AM by, you know, the apocalypse (possibly the rudest awakening in the history of all rude awakenings, if you asked him) he wasn't up to argue. 

Max lifted his head out of sight and Black realized he was sitting on top of the car. "I'm on night watch. For, the, uh, things? Or anything else potentially hostile. Tamio said we'd take turns, but I don't want to interrupt that touching scene." He poked his hand through the roof to point at Tamio, who was cuddled in the back with his wife and son.

Black closed his eyes and willed the fog in his brain to go away. "So this is real." 

Once they'd picked up the trainers from the school, they pulled onto an older, smaller route that Black hadn't recognized. Tamio insisted they were heading west, and there was a small scrap over who got to read the map and which direction to take and this, that, and the other, and after about an hour of driving they decided to park the car at the edge of a clearing and camp out for the night. They hadn't gotten as far as they'd liked, but it did give Black plenty of time to figure out if he was dreaming or not. 

"Yeah, man. This is real." His voice was muffled. "Look, I know you’re confused. Everybody is. So here's what I know," The ceiling thumped and his head popped into sight again. "I saw the news before everything went to shit. Surrounding towns like Oreburgh and Sandgem have been evacuated. I guess the warning just didn't get to Jubilife in time," He shook his head a little. "Other towns farther out have closed themselves off. Barricaded the streets.” Black cocked an eyebrow.

"You think that'll hold them?" 

"We can hope."

Black rubbed at his eyes. White, translucent-ish smudges clouded his vision. He flopped back onto his pillow, staring blearily up at the car ceiling. "So what else happened?" 

Max paused to yawn. "Well, the signal out here is bad. There's little to no phone service, and Tamio still hasn't gotten his radio working yet. They're thinking this whole, eh, _epidemic_ is pretty widespread, though. Apparently a small town called Twinleaf was hit hours before Jubilife was. No one noticed. It's pretty isolated, really small population. Go figure."

"Wait, so this is happening everywhere?" He asked the ceiling, eyes wide. This all happened practically overnight. How many more of those things had been in those woods the other night by the corner store? How many more were lurking right outside the SUV? 

The man sighed. "I don't think everywhere. Jubilife was hit the hardest; it's mostly in the south-western area, it looks like. Hell, Snowpoint is probably in no danger right now. Hey, there's an idea, let's go visit Snowpoint. Better late than never, right?"

Black ignored him. "What about other regions?"

Max shrugged. "No idea. Why? Are you not from here?"

"No. I-I'm from Unova."

"Ah. You've got Unovan Pokémon, then? You'll have to show me at a less perilous date."

"Yeah," He said, barely paying attention. Tamio's plan would be to get on a boat, but it would take days, perhaps weeks to get anywhere with a speedboat and he doubted that Tamio could manage a cargo ship. None of his Pokémon were able to travel between regions, except...

The realization was like a slap to the face. "Reshiram." 

"What?"

Black threw himself out of his blanket, awkwardly maneuvering over the seats and armrests to climb out through the sunroof. "Reshiram, the Pokémon? From Unova, I can't believe I forgot about it, I haven't seen it in, God, like three days? I-I told it to stay close, but-"

He hauled himself onto the roof next to Max, who stared at him with uncertainty. "Dude, are you alright? What are you talking about?"

"I sort of have a pet legendary dragon." The man's eyes widened. "I know, it's sort of hard to believe, and it would grill me if it heard me call it my pet, but-"

"Whoa, hold on a minute, chill out. Keep your voice down-" Black jumped down from the car onto the grass. He brought his fingers to his lips. "Black, what are you doing? _Don't-_ "

He let out an ear-piercing whistle. The sound echoed, cutting through the air sharply. It faded, gradually, leaving the clearing in a hollow silence. That couldn't have been good, but what did it matter? With Reshiram in the picture, there was no threat. Black kept his eyes on the sky, waiting for it's shape to appear, to hear a noise-

Suddenly, Black's back hit the ground with a dull _thump_. Seeing stars, he blinked confusedly up at Max, who glared down from where he had him pinned, one hand pressed into Black's shoulder uncomfortably tight. His metal bat glinted at his hip.

Black coughed. "What-"

"Fucking _do not_ ," Max said, voice hushed, "Do not do that, ever, what the hell is wrong with you?" He scowled for a minute before closing his eyes and exhaling, releasing Black's jacket. "Fuck, sorry."

"Did you just _tackle_ me?" 

"What else was I supposed to do? We're in the middle of nowhere, probably _surrounded_ by those fuckin' _things_ , and you probably just alerted every damn one of them within a mile span!" 

Fuck. "Maybe they can't hear?" Black's voice was small. The man (thing?) by the corner store heard him calling. He definitely hadn't been unable to hear.

The man got to his feet and glowered at him. "We don't know. That's the whole _problem_ \- we don't know _shit_." He threw his hands out and gestured wildly as he paced. He looked frightened. 

Black could empathize. "Max-" 

"Hold on," Max cut him off, staring past the clearing. It was quiet; the only sound in the glade was the wind whistling through the leaves (and Tamio's snoring, faint from inside the car - eugh). Black tensed and stood up, stiffly. He stayed still, looking around uneasily, waiting for something to come crawling out into the clearing, but nothing came. The woods were silent.

Max's shoulders sagged in relief. He gave a small sigh. "Okay," He looked at Black. "So where is it?" 

Black made a show of dusting himself off, smacking his hands on his pants loudly and staring at the older trainer pointedly. He rubbed his palms together to brush off the remaining dirt. "Where is what?"

"The dragon. Your 'pet'?" He turned and pulled himself back onto the hood of the car, resting his feet on the front bumper. "What was it called, Restroom?" 

Black tried not to snort at the name. "Reshiram," He corrected, choosing instead to glare at him, but his expression soon melted into confusion as he stared up at the empty sky. "And I don't...I mean, it always responds to the whistle." Max made a 'tch' noise. 

"Well, let's not test it again, alright?" Black turned to scowl at him, but it came off as more a puzzled frown.

"You think I'm lying?"

"No, not at all," He said, snidely, "I just...listen, you've had a rough past couple of hours, bud. We all have. So get some rest, okay?"

So Max didn't believe him. That was fine; hell, Black could still hardly believe it. Reaching a hand down to his belt, he grabbed two Pokéballs. He pressed the center button to enlarge them and tossed them into the air. "Archeops! Volcarona!" 

" _Shut the f_ -"

The Pokéballs opened. Light spilled from the capsules, shaping itself and finally materializing into two pristine figures. A wave of heat emanated off of Volcarona as it erupted from it's ball. Embers flickered around it's wings as they fluttered. Next to it, Archeops screeched, all scales and sharp, untidy feathers.

"Shhh," He shushed them, raising and lowering his hands in a 'keep it down' motion. "Inside voices, guys. Listen - I need you both to fly up and watch for... " He still didn't know what to call them. 'Zombies' sounded too practical. "Just...check the surrounding area for anything dangerous. And if you see or, like, _sense_ Reshiram, let me know. Can you do that?"

" _Black_. Dude, seriously, I don't think it's a good idea to-" 

"No, I think it's a great idea, actually," Black said as his Pokémon flew off, "if there are some of those things out here, it's best to have them on guard. For safety," He added. 

Max nodded, slowly. "If you say so, man. But be careful, if you're not gonna sleep. We'll be heading out in a few hours," He patted the side of the SUV. "Of course, you could just sleep while we're driving, but then you'd miss out on all the action, and who wants to be _that_ guy, right?" 

Black wasn't going to comment on that. "Actually, I think I'm gonna stay here a while. You just pack it in for the night. I'll cover watch."

"If you say so," Max flipped over and climbed back up to the roof. He starting lowering himself into the car (pretty clumsily - Black doubted anyone inside was still asleep), but paused before his head went through. "Keep an eye out. Get me if you need anything, and uh...good luck. With your...dragon." He gave a tiny grin. "'Night." 

Black waved halfheartedly. The sunroof slid shut.

The trainer sat on the ground, staring up wistfully at the glittering sky. He'd never really been one to truly appreciate stars when he was younger; Unova had a serious problem with light pollution, so the stars and planets were never very visible, let alone as vibrant and bright as they were right here, in this random forest in the middle of nowhere. 

When he first arrived in Sinnoh and saw the sheer difference, the huge expanse of little white dots that somehow lit up the whole region even from so far away, he'd been so... _bedazzled_ , was a good word for it.

It was almost therapeutic, just seeing them stream steadily across the sky. Ever since that night, he used the stars when he needed to calm down, to take his mind off things. He'd tried it in the other regions he'd visited, too, but it never had the same effect; something about Sinnoh just attracted space.

He could see, way up high, the small, skittering outline of Volcarona, glowing red-orange. He figured they would be fine until morning, unless the things that had ransacked Jubilife could fly (which honestly who even knew at that point). 

There was probably nothing to worry about - and Reshiram was probably just resting, or maybe it was having another fit and ignored him on purpose. Maybe both; the dragon had a pride like you wouldn't believe. Came with being an ancient, reverent deity, he supposed.

Or maybe, if the spread of these creatures was as extensive as Max had told him, perhaps Reshiram was out investigating it. The two dragons weren't necessarily seen as guardians of Unova - that was more Cobalion, Virizion, and Terrakion's forte - but Reshiram was curious by nature. Blowing him off to inspect the damage - it definitely wasn't above that.

He sighed, wishing he'd brought his bag with him out of the car. Even day-old potato chips sounded good right about now. He laid back and watched as Volcarona's shining silhouette circled the clearing.

He didn't notice the three pairs of eyes watching him from the woods.

They headed out early the next morning. The sun had just peeked over the trees, slathering the east side of the sky in a lazy, early morning yellow-orange while the west side curled away from it, dimly clinging to it's darker blue color. Tamio, again, took the wheel, and, insisting he knew where he was going, continued to follow the old path they turned onto. 

"Just a little further, and we'll reach the main road," He declared. 

"The main road? Why the hell would we want to go there? That highway was packed!" Black interjected, sending him a incredulous look through the rear-view mirror. 

"Well, okay, not 'main' road, necessarily. There are several routes to Canalave-" Again, Black cringed, "-obviously, and while half of them are waterways, I do know my way around some of the older roads," he explained, "There's a bridge a little farther down this one. It won't take us directly there, but it'll get us over the canal. I just hope it's not raised..."

Well, wasn't that comforting. "How old is the bridge? Is it stable?"

"Should be. They only stopped using it as a main passage because of it's size; it's not big enough for most of the huge cargo trucks that pass through. It was built before the city was as big as it's gotten to be. It's still open to the public for crossing, though." 

Black nodded, though he knew the man probably couldn't see it. He felt uneasy - Archeops still couldn't pick up Reshiram's scent anywhere, and the dragon still had yet to respond to his calls. He didn't have the heart to ask Archeops to fly him the mass distance between Sinnoh and Unova... without Reshiram to travel overseas, Black couldn't get home. 

He was stuck here.

Oh dear _God_ , he was _stuck_ here.

"Black. _Psst_! Black!"

Shaking his head clear of those cheerful thoughts, the trainer blinked and looked over at Piper, who was sitting criss-crossed two seats down from him. In front of her, in the space her feet would have been, sat Tamio's son - Taro? - holding what looked like a colorful pamphlet. 

"Taro has something he wants to ask you about," She whispered, smiling a bit giddily. Black cocked an eyebrow. 

"Uh...okay. Shoot." 

Taro said nothing. He stared at Black and tried to shy away from him (the space was kind of limited), hiding the lower side of his face behind the pamphlet. Silence. 

For several seconds, it was quiet, save for the engine, and Max snoring (hypocrite) from the backseat. Nothing happened. 

Well, this was horrible. Finally, Black turned to Piper awkwardly and asked, "Uh, can he...uh...?"

"Yes," She answered, which, honestly he was glad for because he wasn't sure if asking 'can he understand me' would sound insensitive to someone that clearly wasn't born in any English speaking country (even though it had already been pretty much established that he hadn't been). Piper rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go on, ask him." 

The kid didn't move for all of fifteen seconds (fifteen seconds, of course, Black spent wondering if it was possible for a human being to actually melt from discomfort) before he shook his head and stood up to shove the pamphlet in the trainer's face.

"Uh," He uttered intelligently, and clumsily went to grab the paper before it fell to the floor. He unfolded it and turned it over. 

_Come See Liberty Garden! A Beautiful Island Oasis Home to a Mysterious, Mythical Pokémon!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell how hard i'm trying? no? 
> 
> shit goes down next chapter
> 
> sTay TuNED ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
>    
>  **EDIT, 6/10/2016 - always: edits, edits, edits! expect a lot of edits. nothing will be changed story-wise, just little details here and there that i think help frame the story a bit better**
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT, 2/1/2017 - ok fuck backspace. if you've read this story up to this point, i really, highly suggest you re-read it again. chapter 1 and 2 have been thoroughly edited to fit parts of the story in i felt would build it better, get the plot flowing, you get it. thank you!**


End file.
